


Reunion

by KAL (JadeElite)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Reader Insert, mention of rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 19:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15225984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeElite/pseuds/KAL
Summary: When the group finds you and your sick sister they take you back to the prison. You're difficult past with people in this new world makes it hard for you to trust them, until you find that your childhood best friend and long time lover Daryl is there. An emotional reunion ensues, but eventually the things that happened while you each thought the other dead have to come to light.If you enjoy and want to support my writing feel free to check out my ko-fi; https://ko-fi.com/jadeelite





	Reunion

            There is a loud noise outside your hiding spot. It was stupidity that got you trapped in this pharmacy. Medication was something you needed desperately, but you should have been more careful. If you had checked the perimeter before entering you would have seen that the back wall had been caved in, likely by some asshole in a big truck making his own route into the building rather than cutting the chains on the front door like you did. Because of those chains, you had made the bold assumption that the structure was clear, and it wasn’t until you were in too deep that you saw the hole and the hoard of walkers that had wandered in through it.

            So, now you’re stuck in the broom closet. It was the only place you could get to once the walkers realized that dinner arrived. By the watch, that you’ve tediously kept wound, you’ve been here for about four hours. Nobody was going to come for you, there was nobody who could. Yet, no matter how hard you tried to come up with a plan, no solution came to you.

            That loud noise sounds like a shelf falling over. You assume it’s the now agitated undead causing chaos. Then there’s another ruckus of things falling over and another. Briefly, you consider that rescue has arrived, then a pit forms in your stomach as you remember that not all of the living are necessarily better than the dead nowadays.

            You plan to stay quiet, hope they don’t check this musty little side room and haul ass once they clear out. Faintly you can hear the popping of silenced pistols, the sound of voices, footsteps. Somehow you convince yourself that holding your breath when the voices grow close to your door will help to conceal you as if they’re supernatural beings with supernatural senses. They pass in due time.

            But your luck doesn’t hold out forever. Again footsteps make their way to your hiding place, and this time the door is thrown open. The light is blinding, you shield your eyes. After blinking a few times, you look up from the corner of the room you’ve curled up in, and find yourself staring down the barrel of a gun.

            Before you can further adjust to the light and see the person holding the gun, they call out to somebody. “Rick, we’ve got someone else in here.” By the time whoever he’s speaking to has arrived he’s lowered his weapon, and you can see it’s a young Asian man.

             The second man, older, who carries himself with authority, looks you over. “Are you hurt?”

            There are a total of five people in the group. Through a short conversation, you are able to learn that they are Rick, Glenn, Carol, Tyrese, and Maggie. They have come here looking for medication to stock up their camp in case of an emergency. They discover that you were the ones to cut the chains at the front, and of your mistake in assuming the building to be safe. You also tell them that you’re here to find medicine for your sister, although you are not very revealing of the details on that matter. They inform you that they have an excellent doctor back at their camp, and could take you two to him. They offer to allow you to stay with them if you can answer three questions and prove you don’t have a group that would take advantage of them. But you refuse the offer of staying, knowing from experience that you’re better off just the two of you.

            When you reach the house that you and your sister have been holed up in the past week, you are more than a little on edge. The last thing your sister needs is to be exposed to more strangers, but she needs a doctor.

            “Wait out here.” You say softly. “I need to tell her what’s going on, okay?”

            You make it to your sister’s room, unnerved by the silence. Pausing with a hand on the doorknob, you gather your thoughts to figure out what’s going on. The sound of a sudden hacking cough is a relief, she didn’t up and die while you were out. Pushing the door open reveals that she is still curled up on the bed in the same position you left her.

            “Hey, Lisa.” You make your way to her, kneeling on the floor.

            Her face is flushed from her fever, and she’s been sweating so much there is a large stain on her pillow. “Hey, sis…”

/// I’m not going to lie I’m getting bored of writing this introductory stuff, and if I’m bored writing it I’m going to bed a lot of you are bored reading it and just want me to go ahead and skip to the Daryl stuff. So I’m going to do that for you. As a summary to what happens; Reader has to do a lot of convincing and reasoning to get her sister to agree to go with Rick’s group, there’s a lot of implication of really terrible things that happened with the last people they met. Her sister has many injuries, and some of them are infected, and she seems to have a severe chest cold, along with unexplained vomiting. Let’s get us to the good stuff now as they arrive at the prison. They arrive at the gates which are opened by Carl and Sasha. Sasha is nervous about them bringing strangers and wonders if they asked the 3 questions, they did not, saying it can wait until your sister is in stable condition. Rick and Tyrese help to carry Lisa inside and to an empty cell, where Hershal begins examining her. You’re sitting at one of the tables in the common area waiting when we pick the story back up.///

            You bounce your leg anxiously while looking around the room. The concrete walls are bleak and unwelcoming. Still, safe isn’t always warm and comforting. The members of the group that are watching over you seem to feel your distress, and so haven’t started poking around in your business, yet. While you stare at the metal tabletop, it’s cold surface relief from the early summer heat, you hear the doors open again, somebody else entering.

            “Find somebody new out there?” A woman speaks, each female you meet here lightens the load on your chest just a bit.

            “Two somebodies, her sister’s sick, Herschel is looking at her now,” Rick says. “Any sign of the Governor?”

            “Naw, damn bastard must have run pretty far.” Your heart speeds up at the familiar low voice. “No sign of him in ten miles of here.” You look up, slowly, afraid your ears deceive you.

            “Daryl…?” You choke out, tears welling in your eyes, your heart overflowing with a profound joy that you haven’t felt since before all this.

            The man looks at you, and your favorite pair of steel blue eyes widen. “Peanut?” Peanut, a dumb nickname you got when you were a kid. You loved to collect things, wildflowers, rocks, and such. Daryl gave you the name when he saw your parents garage full of those clear plastic peanut jars filled with all the things you picked up. There were even a few that were makeshift terrariums and aquariums for frogs and fish you picked up in the creek behind your house and worms from your mother's garden. You even managed to catch a monarch butterfly once, although it didn’t live for very long, none of the creatures did, that’s why you prefer rocks.

            With a sniffle and a grin, you push yourself to your feet. “Sometimes I wonder if you actually know my real name.” It’s impossible, some mirage, right?

            Daryl seems to be thinking the same thing as he looks you over. “I… thought you were dead… the bombings.” He hands his bow over to the black woman he came in with, and takes a step towards you, still looking unsure. “If I knew you were… shit, Peanut I looked for ya, I swear.”

            “I know you did.” Is it stupid to be crying right now? No, there’s never been a more perfect time than now to release the waterfall of tears. “You… I thought… they told me you an’ Merle got…” Daryl and his brother were supposed to meet you in Atlanta… well, that’s a long story you don’t feel like thinking about now. You close the gap between the two of you in a few long strides.

            His arms are around you, and finally, you feel warm and comfortable and safe. He’s silent while he holds you close, head buried in your shoulder. You can’t help that you’re half sobbing. The feeling of pure happiness, the ecstasy of reunion is too much to handle. Daryl’s fingers are in your hair, playing with the locks, while you just grip the back of his vest as tightly as you would a lifeboat in the middle of a storm.

            You don’t care about the strangers surrounding you, are barely aware of them. Lifting your head and standing on your tip toes, you lips meet your husband’s in a gentle and loving kiss. His response is to hold you even tighter as if he’s afraid you’ll suddenly disappear.

            There is a clearing of a throat nearby, and the two of you break apart. Your face feels hot from the blush spreading across your cheeks. Daryl bites his lower lip and stares at the floor, reluctantly releasing you.

            “So, you two know each other?” Rick says, he has an eyebrow raised. The others are all either looking away in embarrassment or watching with dumb grins. You aren’t sure if they know about you, Daryl was always somewhat private about his personal life, many of the people you two know didn’t even know about your tiny, drinking induced, wedding in the middle of the night. The only two attendees were your respective siblings, drinking partners that night, and it was officiated by an old family friend from the local courthouse (also a drinker that night.) It had come to be revealed he was officiated, and Merle joked he should wed you and Daryl. In the morning when the hangovers cleared, the two of you decided to let it stick.

            Daryl runs a hand through his chestnut hair, which you can’t help but notice is in pressing need of a wash. “Known her since we were kids… guess you could say we’ve dated since high school.”

            “Wasn’t super serious until like a year before all this crap…” You decide to take Daryl’s other hand, intertwining fingers.

            “Got drunk and got married.” He’s so shy about it, as if they may laugh, or think less of him. “And… stayed… married.”

            The room is silent for a minute or more. It seems like everybody thought they knew Daryl well, but this was a shocking revelation. You want to ask where Merle has gone, but a bottomless pit forms in your stomach as you consider the possibilities. Better not to ask about the status of people you haven’t seen, they’re likely dead and bringing them up only brings bad memories.

            “Alright, Beth you owe me that record player you keep.” Glenn breaks the silence.

            “No way that’s not fair! How was I suppose to know he’s married!” A young blonde protests. “It’s broken anyway…”

            “Then I’ll fix it, coming for it tonight.” Glenn sees the curious look you and a few others are giving him. “Beth and I had a running bet about Daryl being gay.”

            Daryl goes ridged, and you catch him giving the two a death glare. His mouth is working as though he’s going to say something, but also stopping himself from saying the wrong things.

            “I mean I wouldn’t be too sure Glenn.” You can’t help yourself from teasing. “I mean with how hard it is to get him to be intimate, never know with those kinds of things.”

            Daryl looks betrayed. “Peanut…” Suddenly his expression shifts, he lowers his head and his voice to a half growl in your ear. “If it bothers ya so much, we can get very intimate tonight, got lost time to make up for.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rick roll his eyes, having been close enough to hear.

            But it doesn’t make you feel better. In fact, you go completely tense. Air catching in your throat. You begin to shake. Memories of something you spent the past weeks trying to forget are invading your brain. It feels like there are hands all over you, and you can’t escape the pressing weight on your chest.

            Suddenly you are at the metal table again, being sat down. Everything is spinning. Somebody is trying to get your attention. You’re crying still, but it’s different now. Then things are kind of fuzzy and black and don’t make sense anymore.

            Much time may have passed by the time you come to your senses again, lying in a cot in a cell. It’s dim, but pink and orange, the sun must be setting now. When you sit up, it becomes apparent that you’re not alone, Daryl is close by your side, holding your hand. It is comforting now.

            Herschel is there too, although you had only met him briefly before he went to take care of your sister. “Glad you’re up, gave Daryl a right scare you did.”

            “Lisa… is she okay?” Are the first words out of your mouth.

            “For now, her condition is stable, but she is…” Herschel stops, looking you over. He knows now, doesn’t he? Can’t have gotten a good look at Lisa without being able to tell. “Listen, I know yer tired, but we need to ask you some questions, make sure you’re not a risk to us.”

            “I told all of ya, she and her sister are good people, you don’t need to make them even more stressed with the questions.” Daryl snaps, squeezing your hand.

            “It’s fine… what do you need to know?” You’re actually interested to know what these oh so important questions they talk about are.

            Herschel nods. “How many walkers have you killed?”

            It takes a moment for you to figure out your answer, having kept track for a while, but the number is fuzzy. “Thirty-seven…. I think anyways, there was a Molotov, and things got kind of crazy, so I didn’t get a count of those.”

            “And how many people have you killed.” The older man is so mattered of fact about the question.

            “Peanut wouldn’t hurt a fly… she…”

            “Six.” The answer comes too quickly, and bitter memories fill your heart. Daryl goes tense and rather quiet, even seeming to hold his breath.

            “Why?”

            Those memories are consuming you again, and it’s taking all your strength not to let them overwhelm you. Every touch is burned onto your skin. Their stinking breaths still linger in your nostrils. Nasty words echo in your ears.

            “Cause… for one-hundred and seventeen days… they beat, terrorized, and raped my sister and me.”


End file.
